You're a plague rat.

You don't remember much about your past. Your life before the plague settled within you is a mystery. The plague doesn't affect you, and you're not sure how it would affect others if they got infected. You feel an itch to spread it though. You also feel like you'll grow stronger and maybe learn something about the plague if you do.

Your little body still aches, not from the plague, but rather as if from a long journey making your muscles sore.

Around you, in the dark, is flowing waste, the pitter-patter of water drops on wet stone, and the stench, the unmistakable stench of the sewers. You think you also hear the squeaking of other rats. The stone tunnels stretch before you.

What will you do, little rat?
>Find someone to spread the plague to. A misfit dwelling in the sewers? Other rats?
>Map the area. Check what's above the sewers. Maybe there's something of note within them as well.

You are Fiona Jarnafeldt, L2S Trollslayer, and you are in serious trouble.

Today you were deployed on a mission to save dozens of kidnapped citizens from the starving squatter city under Helsinki. You saved dozens from a sect of cannibals, only to come across a strange realization; they may have been receiving aid from a rogue government agent who wanted nothing but to see the system you work for destroyed. This rogue agent, a living tree by the name of Zephyr, operated within the Stormdrain to provide... something to the underdwellers. Information, probably.

Maybe it was him that helped pull strings to delete camera logs. Covered the tracks of the thieves. Maybe he even told them about what was carried on a train that came into Helsinki the month before you joined, causing a battle that killed dozens of Stormwatch members.

On the train was a suit of pneumatic powered armor, fashioned from kevlar and carbon fiber components from the stormy city of Chicago by their advanced heavy robotics division. This suit was made exclusively for an elite member of the Stormwatch of lanky proportions. The intended owner, L4 Nonoka Sumika, has an unusual and atypically tall and thin stature that should have made it so, even if stolen, no regularly shaped human could be able to wear it without so much modification that it couldn't work.

And yet, that suit stands in front of you, fully operational, standing eight feet tall, its broad hat casting a black shadow over the <span class="mu-i">thing</span> that has come to possess it.

That thing is an aberration of humanity, that goes by the name of "She." Given its stature, it would be rated as a Troll, but being armored in what it is, it's far more dangerous than its class suggests. Though sources had claimed She was a Finnish river spirit by the name called a Nakki, this is something else entirely. The sensation of water observed by others was misinformation gleaned from the pneumatic exhaust of subliminated hydrogen radiating from the suit and sound She seems to keep uttering, a verbal tick similar to the sound of residual hydrogen mixing with air to form water.

<span class="mu-i">Po, po, po.</span>

This is the story about a world divided between humanity’s accelerating advancements in technology and their mastery of arcane magicks.

Two heroines from opposite sides of the coin were brought together by fate itself to uncover the conspiracies brought forth by humanity’s unsettling progress. will they be able to bring balance to the world, pull a divided world back whole, or will their failures cause the segregation of humanity from its progress into an unrecoverable spiral into chaos? The choices are all up to YOU…!!

This is the story about technology, magick, stars, adventures, and breaking a curse.

This…..is “STARGRAVING”.

SCHEDULE: Every Monday-Thursday from 1:40PM-6:00PM EST

Keep in mind, I’m very new to Quests, as this is my first one. Nonetheless, I hope you stay tuned and enjoy!!

Hi! This is my gay larp story. Please don't laugh at me. It's not quite as fantastical as everything else here but I hope you enjoy it. Decisions will either be from a presented set that can be overridden by popular will at my discretion, or by simple suggestion. Will use d100, applying "Degrees of success" rules that may be familiar to some. For those unfamiliar, rolling a 50 on a dv 40 is 1 degree, 60 2, 70 3, and so forth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

IT IS 2026

THE "AMERICAN REVOLUTION" FAILED 250 YEARS AGO.

YOU HAVE LIVED IN BRITISH OCCUPIED AMERICA FOR YOUR ENTIRE LIFE, AS DID TEN GENERATIONS BEFORE YOU.

26 YEARS AGO, A COORDINATED SERIES OF ATTACKS ACROSS NEW YORK, PHILADELPHIA, AND BOSTON LEAD TO PARLIAMENT PASSING THE "ANTI-TERROR AND SECURITY ACT OF 2000", GIVING CROWN POLICE, ROYAL ARMED FORCES, AND THE VARIOUS INTELLIGENCE MINISTRIES BROADER POWERS THAN THEY PREVIOUSLY HELD. SURVEILLANCE IS A FACT OF LIFE.


IT IS 8:00 AM ON MONDAY, IN [Boston/NYC/Philadelphia]. YOU HAVE JUST LEFT THE FRONT DOOR TO YOUR HOME/APARTMENT. YOUR SHIFT AT [Retail store/Industrial Facility/Office] IS IN AN HOUR. TODAY YOU WILL [Walk, Take the bus, Take the subway, Take a cab]. THE AIR IS CRISP AND COOL, THE SKY A STEELY GREY. AN URBAN-CAMOUFLAGED ARMORED CAR TURNS LEFT ON THE BLOCK BEFORE YOU, IT'S DIESEL ENGINE WHINING MONSTROUSLY. AS IT PASSES YOU, THE EMPTY PUPIL OF IT'S REMOTELY CONTROLLED 12.7MM TURRET MEETS YOUR GAZE, TRACKING YOU FOR A FEW SHORT SECONDS BEFORE PIVOTING TO REGARD THE POTENTIAL THREATS AHEAD.

BETTER HURRY UP, YOU DON'T WANT TO GET FIRED

Nine years ago King Aiden Perenolde betrayed the Alliance and sided with the Horde of Orgrim Doomhammer. Nine years ago Prince Alric Perenolde, the second heir of Alterac was sent into exile for his own protection. This exile turned permanent and Captain Normand Garside, your guardian for the past nine years made sure that you were safe and learned the useful skills that would help you in the future.

Now you are ready to carry the responsibility and unite the scattered Alteraci people and reclaim the lands that were once the Kingdom of Alterac.

With the campaign in Durnholde over and the loose threads there and back home in Dawnholme tied up, Alric for a moment could turn his thoughts towards enjoying a nice trip to Stormwind City with Malevus as this grand date.

But of course nothing can go as he wants and after dueling Grom Hellscream and getting wounded in the process, Alric realised the political reality in Stormwind being a much bigger and more complex obstacle. The melancholy of King Varian had for all purposes dragged the City to halt and only drastic measures could help the Stormwind City to recover. At least that was his and Lady Katrana Prestor's thinking.

Welcome to Alterac Resurgent Quest!

…

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MedivhQM
/qst/ Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Alterac%20Resurgent%20Quest
Prince Alric Stats: https://pastebin.com/rysxdRsv
Quest Mechanisms: https://pastebin.com/CyD88qqf
Character List: https://pastebin.com/FkYd6wkJ
Side Character Stats: https://pastebin.com/aRfyksUG

The loss of one's memory is a terrible thing. You're not in the strictest sense dead, but you may as well be for anything and everything you could call yourself is gone. And, you are left like a needle on a record player listlessly following a groove with no music. Yet, still the record turns and so does your meaningless experience continue second by second.

You're alone in a padded cell. You're bound in a straight jacket. A gag fills your mouth and is locked behind your head. It takes a great deal of effort to even stand because you're arms aren't free. You can think, feel, and express yourself clearly. Define the things you experience as if you've always known them. But, you have no memory of who you are, how you got here, or even where you're at. All you know is that you're restrained.

Something shuffles outside your cell's door. It sounds like somebody walking and brushing against the wall at the same time. A strange clicking noise accompanies the odd stride, like teeth chattering in the cold.

>Try to call out to them and get their attention

>Hold your breath, remain silent, and stay perfectly still

Memories of Earth (Sonny - Aftermath 1) https://youtu.be/XxIr_gXszgM

In the blue hour, in a field of gently swaying grass, an old man stood, listening quietly to the cicadas screaming for pussy. He smiled at the thought. Insects were very amusing creatures and it was their music which gave voice to heat and the evening.

A cool breeze blew and it felt good against his weathered face. The old man was not used to such a peaceful, tranquil atmosphere. For the moment, he felt as if he were... safe? Yes, safe. For the first time in a very, very long time.

He closed his eye. He could imagine being there, in his old hometown, walking through the streets and the places he grew up in. Another time, another place, like a memory adrift in a sea of grass and eternity and the sounds of an eternal American summer.

But this was all... A fabrication.

And actually, so was this entire scene.

Zoos, after all, are the built realization of man's favorite illusion: control over nature.

The old man's jaw clenched. He sighed a really deep and disappointed sigh out of simultaneous shame and frustration. Tilting his head upwards, he saw the shimmering of the light panels across the vast dome of the sky as it touched the earth. Under his feet, he could feel the subtle rumbling of hidden machines working tirelessly. Through his bones, weather generators blew colder than a moment they did before. None such detail would escape him, nothing ever did.

The inhabitants of the zoo could never comprehend the engineering and human imagination invested in this place, but it was the old man's awareness of these things which damned him. He was too old and too jaded, too far in his Fallen state to partake in the ignorant bliss as much as he could receive the Heavenly grace. Something old, dark, and chthonic gnawed at his heart which was treacherous and full of deceit and the taste was bitter, bitter.

He simply could not go home again. It was quite impossible.
Memories of clear skies had already faded away.

Gently shaking off the dust from his feet, the Arm of the City stepped into the cabin of his personal car and bade its return to the Seed known as White Sands. The engines shuddered as the shuttlecraft took off from the orbital station and burned through the night. His right hand man had given him an all-day pass to the Metazoo with only the best of intentions, but alas, alack, such a gift was wasted on the likes of him. He hadn't even seen a single stupid animal or Pokémon during his entire visit, what a fucking ripoff.

Even though he shouldn't, the old man was going to have some very harsh words with his friend when he came back home.

And on the planet of SUNROSE below, a completely different and totally unrelated story is taking place...

This is a WiP game and some (or many) aspects of it are subject to change.
-
-
>The Setting
The Democratic Republic of Congo. About 3.5 times the size of Texas, or about the size of the United States east of the Mississippi River.

This is set after the events of the famous /k/ thread about Africa and Paratroopers

While the worst of the fighting was during the First Congo War, and the bulk of the fighting during the Second Congo War is over, the area is on track to suffer millions more deaths. These lives won't be lost in large, "epic" tank on tank battles like earlier, or the kinds of notable guerilla warfare of the "Vietnam War". No one is going to win, nothing is going to be figured out or settled. Vengeance will result in vengeance, and observers wonder if anyone involved actually has any ideology or beliefs.

And there is a lot of groups. Groups within groups, sub factions within sub factions, and factions that are puppets of puppets.

I advise you pause here and read the somewhat questionable, but entertaining /k/ "African Paratrooper thread". Otherwise...

To most, the idea of being reincarnated into another world was a mere fantasy.

But to you...

It was reality.

Your name is John Doe, and a few months ago you got hit by a truck. After your death you met Herta, the beautiful (and perverted) Goddess of Artifice. She told you that you needed to pick a cheat skill before she could send you to one of the many generic isekai worlds available.

"Because that's heavenly policy!" She'd said.

But instead of picking between those boring options, you took the Goddess Herself and brought her with you to a world of her own creation.

This universe of hers was slapped together with 'tags' and generic fantasy themes. Some might scoff at the abundance of stale tropes and cliched genres, but things were just the way you liked them.

Well, you were still getting used to the unfamiliar logic and morality of this brave new world. Beyond being mere ideas that were held by people, these conceits extended deep into cultural thought, sculpting history and even shaping the laws of physics.

But that wasn't all this universe had in store: Soldiers, airships, mechs, clockwork robots, walking artillery units, all of these and more marched from their homeland's borders to fight in a neverending skirmish against their enemies.

Yet these modern conflicts were petty when compared to the Demon Lord's invasion. So great was that war, that the scars from that era lingered like a thorn on the side. Corruption magic threatened to destroy everything if not purged whenever it was found, despite it being many millennia since the demons were vanquished. This evil magic will grow and fester if no precautions were taken. Thankfully there were many organizations in the world that dealt with these sorts of things.

Today, gold poured from the coffers of nations as everyone clamored to get a slice of the goods and weapons available. In spite of the constant wars and battles, commerce flowed through the planet, giving and taking away fortunes in an instant.

These realities gave testament to some of this universe's priorities - war, trade, and steampunk tech.

And that didn't even mention what is blatantly the most important of this universe's conceits: Slavery. It was a fact of life. Everyone you'd met in this world approved of it and spoke about it like it was the most common thing in the world. Which, in this world's context, made perfect sense.

As Freeborn Men are people, thus women and the lower classes are considered property. Although one could argue that slavery in this world was not the same type of chattel slavery that might pop into your mind whenever someone in your old world mentioned the word 'slave'. Providing evidence to support that theory, the Bondage Accords, which are a sort of international agreement most nations adhered to, granted certain protections to the enslaved despite their legal status as objects.

Howdy everyone this quest is inspired by Tower Dungeon, Dark Souls and gritty fantasy. With a rather flexible take on the Basic roleplaying Universal Game Engine is the basis for characters, skills and combat.

_

<span class="mu-i"> One Hundred years have passed since the last Vexana Cosmesis influxia - The alignment of stars necessary for the correct partitions of the many seen and unseen angles of reality, allowing the beyond to grasp the physical once more.

Since that moment every hour, minute and second has been counted as Kingdoms heed the awaited dirge. For the First City has returned to the world for just ten years until it is swallowed back by the accursed void, bringing with it relics of the past and horrors of a prophesied future. Dancing along the manic death spiral of time with little reason.

Within the fabled Bed of Incongruity promises immense power and eternal life for all that sunder their way to the hidden cavity. Countless named and forgotten treasures of equal might and greater also await those mad enough to brave the damned metropolis.

The First City lies within once blessed lands, yet the centuries of isolation and exposure to distant dimensions has taken its toll, scattering the returning landscape with foreign contaminants, alien threats and unnatural constructs.

The City's interior itself is a celestial hovel of unnatural geometry as reality bleeds away at the very point where the veil between the many planes awaits, existence is only a second thought here. Many such explorers claim to have witnessed their compatriots simply uncoiling from reality and ascending to the heavens without warning.

The stars have aligned and the way is known, through the hazy miasma the Insane, Brave and Desperate rush like a tide of crashing waves against its walls. </span>